


Kept Man

by eyeofthepanthergod



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Enabler, M/M, Sexual Content, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:01:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28907505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeofthepanthergod/pseuds/eyeofthepanthergod
Summary: Shane's miserable life in Stardew Valley is brightened by the new farmer in town, despite his initial resistance. Life is easier around him - less effort required, less pressure to be a better man. Who needs ambition when someone will bring you all the delicious cooking and artisan beer you could want? But the handsome farmer may not have his best interests at heart...
Relationships: Shane/Male Player (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 108





	1. Spring 3/Summer 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a short weight-gain fic idea inspired by Shane's post-marriage dialogue that, as usual, got considerably longer as I started writing it. 
> 
> For those who have not seen Shane's post-marriage dialogue yet and may have missed the content tags, be warned that this fic is going to explore some grey morality themes (in addition to canon suicidal themes) and a satisfying ending is not guaranteed.  
> A hugely fat Shane is, however.

### Spring 3

Looking back on things, Shane doubted his husband was a good influence on him.

### Summer 1

When the new farmer had arrived and made the rounds to meet everyone in town, Shane had barely given him a second thought. Stardew Valley was where ambition came to die, as far as he was concerned, and he had no doubt that the newcomer would fail miserably at getting the old farm running again before slinking back to the city where he came from. At least it would mean some more cash flowing into Marnie’s coffers for a season, hopefully. But that first spring has evidently been a successful renewal for the farm, since summer brought with it the farmer to Shane’s spot in the saloon. 

Shane had been surprised when it first began, since he had barely given the man more than a grunt in passing since he had arrived in town. 

“Mind if I sit here?” The farmer had begun as he approached the bar stool closest to Shane. Shane did mind, but before he had a chance to shoo away the man, the offer came. “I’ll shout the next round.” 

That changed the situation. The weather was heating up, and if Shane wouldn’t have to pay as much to quench his thirst, he could tolerate the intrusion.

“I’m not in the mood for chatting,” he had muttered, but shifted aside to make room.

The farmer had the courtesy to respect that, and the two of them drank in silence. After his beer, the other man wordlessly got to his feet, nodding to Shane in farewell before strolling out of the saloon, leaving Shane to his own thoughts. 

Shane had chalked it up as a one-off encounter, an educational lesson to the newcomer to leave him alone, like the rest of the townsfolk had learned, but a few days later the farmer was back again. 

“Feel up to some conversation tonight?” 

Shane held the farmer’s gaze for a long moment of silence, before, “...Are you buying again?” 

“Sure.” 

Shane’s introverted tendencies warred with his mercurial sensibilities and lost.

“Fine. Sit down.” 

It was nothing too fascinating, just the introductions that Shane had been putting off for over a season. Despite Shane’s laconic responses, the other man seemed interested enough to stick around for longer, buying Shane a second beer when the first ran dry. Once the initial small-talk topics ran dry, the other man waiting expectantly for Shane to pick up conversation and being met with taciturn silence, the farmer took that as his cue to head off for the evening. 

That encounter formed the basis of a simple equation in Shane’s mind: put in the barest possible minimum of effort into conversation, keep the new guy engaged, keep him around for longer, and get some more beer to help make the warmer evenings and the drudgery of his life more bearable without paying for it. 

Next time, he was ready, and took the initiative when the farmer entered the saloon.

“Hey,” Shane called over, gesturing to the empty stool beside him. “You finished for the day?”

He was rewarded for his efforts with a friendly smile from the farmer and cool glass of beer in his hand soon after. 

It was easy to hone in on their shared topic of interest - animal husbandry - and Shane had to admit to himself that the farmer made for palatable company, all things considered. Friendlier than Sebastian, more intelligent than Alex, more level-headed than Elliot, and with none of the barely-restrained judgement that he got from Harvey. It didn’t long after he finished a beer for a fresh one to be served up either, and by the time the farmer got up and left for the night, Shane was four beers deeper than he had been an hour ago. 

The math checked out, it seemed. Shane would have thought that with getting a farm up and running the other man would have had better things to spend his money on than satisfying Shane’s thirst twice a week, but it seemed the farm was going well enough for the farmer to have disposable income to waste on him. Marnie was a big fan of the farm-grown corn , but Shane’s soft spot was for the peppers. He made the mistake of mentioning to his new drinking buddy, only for each future visit from the farmer to the saloon to be accompanied by a fresh sampling of peppers for Shane to take home with him.

Though Shane was reluctant to use the label, they were becoming friends. They didn’t talk much outside of the saloon, with the farmer usually visiting Marnie’s during the day for purchases while Shane was at work, but Shane made the startling realisation about a month into summer that he was coming to look forward to the man’s company for getting to talk to him as well, not just for the free alcohol. It was refreshing to have another guy he could talk to who seemed interested in him, genuinely caring about what he had to say.

Not that the alcohol wasn’t still a very nice perk. Shane tended to drink faster around the other man, to squeeze in more refills before the farmer called it a night. And since that started to take longer and longer as they grew more comfortable with each other, that often meant Shane would stagger home thoroughly sloshed at the end of the night, left with a stiff hangover the following morning. A few seedy mornings at work wasn’t enough to deter Shane from getting his figurative money’s worth out of the farmer, though. His bank account was thanking him, even if his liver wasn’t.

Towards the end of summer, there was a minor annoyance. This year the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies, a festival of sorts that occurred to watch the migration of bioluminescent jellyfish on the beach, was happening on a Saturday, which had become the best drinking evening of the week this Summer. His farmer friend would come to the saloon after finishing work for the day and keep him well-lubricated, and Shane would be able to sleep in the following morning without having to get out of bed before noon. The festival meant the saloon would be closed instead, with everyone gathering on the beach to watch, and his drinking buddy would have more interesting people to spend his evening with.

On the Saturday night, Shane found himself his own little space on the pier to settle down for the next couple of hours to watch the jellyfish, trying not to feel pathetic about the little pang he felt when he looked over to see his new farmer friend on the shore, talking to Alex, probably about biceps or something. Jas had run off to play with Vincent, and Marnie was talking with the social group composed of the mothers in town, leaving Shane on his own to stare into water. The jellyfish were nice to look at, but after seeing it all before the previous year, some of allure had worn off for him. 

Footsteps on aged wood drew him out of his thoughts, as the farmer came over to sit down beside him on the pier. “Hey.”

“...Hey. This is your first time seeing the jellies, right?”

“Yes. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Yeah.”

Shane didn’t have much more to say to the question than that, and they sat in silence for a long moment, before the other man glanced over to Shane. “It’s a hot night tonight.”

“Yeah. So much for the end of summer.”

“You want to come back to my place after this and cool off?”

“What, you have a pool now?”

The farmer chuckled. “You would have heard by now if I did, though a dip in the ocean sounds good right about now.”

Shane eyed the water. He hadn’t gone swimming in a while. “You wouldn’t be popular around town if you scared off the jellies tonight.”

“I wouldn’t want to take that risk. But I had something else in mind to cool down.”

The other man’s smile looked nicer in the light of the moonlight and glowing jellyfish than in the lights of the saloon, Shane decided. “Does it involve Gus getting off his ass and opening the saloon for us tonight?”

“Not quite, but now you’re on the right track. Did you know summer is a great season for growing hops?”

Shane put two and two together. “...You’ve been brewing something?”

“Tried brewing quite a lot of somethings, actually. But I’ve been saving the first tasting session for a special occasion, and this seems like a good night for it.”

“I could use a drink,” Shane admitted, stating the obvious. “Just so long as you don’t poison me with crap beer.”

“Hey, I’m my own guinea pig. I’ll drink it first, and if I’m still upright an hour later, you can try some and tell me what you think.”

“Sounds good.”

The other man nodded before getting up, giving Shane a pat on the shoulder before heading off to resume his socialising circuit.

About an hour later, the two men made their excuses and headed off together back to the farm, the walk illuminated only by moonlight. 

“This place is bigger than I thought it would be,” Shane commented as he entered inside the farmhouse. It was sparsely furnished, but looked well-maintained. 

“Robin did some renovations a while back,” the farmer nodded. “Gave me some more room to set up this-”

He led Shane into the adjacent room that was similarly sparsely furnished, but had the makings of what could one day be Shane’s kind of heaven. Several kegs were lining the wall, and next to a work table there were shelves filled with bottles of amber liquid.

“I reckon I’ll need your expert opinion on all of these batches at some point or another,” his friend grinned. 

This was Shane’s kind of challenge. “Let’s get started, then, and we’ll see how much progress we can make tonight.”

They started out inside, Shane seated on the only chair in the house and the other man sitting on the bed, but as the air started to cool down outside, they moved out to the porch where they could look out over the growing crops and listen to the cicadas.

The beer was, for the most part, not as nice as what Shane drank at the saloon, but as he thirstily sampled his way through bottles from each batch, there were some standout superiors. 

“Whatever you did with this one was great,” Shane murmured after draining the last of the beer from his fifth bottle, stifling a burp that threatened to rise up. “More like this would make me a happy man.”

“‘Happy… man…’” the farmer repeated, making a show of writing down the words on the paper he had brought out with him to record Shane’s observations. “Can’t ask for much more than that. Ready for the next one?”

“Mmhm.” 

While his friend went back inside to fetch the next bottles from the fridge, Shane let out the belch he had been holding in, and started to fumble with his belt buckle. He had been drinking a lot of beer this summer, and his pants and shirts had been starting to feel more snug lately. He didn’t need a constrictive pants button getting in the way of his taste-testing duties. “Yeah, that’s better.”

“What’s better?” the other man asked, emerging from the house behind Shane.

“Oh, uh-” Shane was feeling relaxed and happy at the moment, but it was only the farmer’s established track record of not being judgmental that made him share what was on his mind. “Getting a bit of a beer gut, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m used to some winter weight, but summer weight is new for me. Maybe I should start exercising.”

“I bet Alex would love to coach you.”

Shane snorted. “Yeah, never mind, then. I think one of us would end up murdering the other if that happened.”

“You want to wrap it up after this one, then?” the farmer offered, passing Shane a cool bottle of the next batch. 

“Hell no. I’m not a lightweight. I’m going to try them all.”

“I’ll toast to that-” his drinking buddy tapped the neck of Shane’s bottle with his own. “To home brewing. And to jellyfish as well, I guess.”

“To the jellies.”

An hour later, they had migrated further afield than the porch, to rest against a tree in a stretch of grass near the house. Shane had lost track of how much he had drunk, but they had put some ice in a bucket so they didn’t have to keep making the trip back to the fridge to get more, and could stay where they were, sitting next to each other as they looked out across the farm and up into the sky. 

At some point, his farmer friend had unbuttoned his shirt to cool down, and Shane had noticed with some envy that his city-boy frame had firmed and thickened up a bit with musculature after two seasons of hard work. 

“Hey…” the farmer broke the silence, the word coming slowly and clumsily from the amount of alcohol he had imbibed, keeping up with Shane. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

“You sound drunk,” Shane slurred, chuckling. 

“I am. But… I mean it. Thanks for coming.”

“Haha… my pleasure. Not like I had anything better to do tonight.”

“Aw, thanks.”

“I meant it in a good way… I really like it when you come drink with me. So I was sad when it was closed today.”

The farmer was quiet for a long moment. Shane was conscious that he could feel how warm the man was against his side, and that he could hear the other’s breathing. 

“I was real glad you could come try out some beers. I was hoping you’d like some of them. Even if the rest is awful-”

“That first one was terrible- but there’s some good stuff in here-”

His friend turned and unsteadily placed a hand on Shane’s mouth.

“Shh… shh. I wasn’t done yet.” There was a pause, and the hand came down. “Fuck. I can’t remember what I was saying now-”

Shane had been staring at the farmer’s face when he turned to look at him, the man’s words little more than white noise by now. His eyes… his cheeks, flushed from alcohol. His mouth, just a short distance away…

Shane interrupted him by leaning in to press his mouth against the farmer’s. There was a brief moment of silence, as drunk minds attempted to process new information, before the farmer kissed Shane back, hands coming up to rest against Shane’s sides. At some point, the two of them rolled off the tree and onto the grass, strong, coarse hands shifting down to paw at Shane’s ass while Shane moaned needily against the man’s mouth. 

“...Hey, take off your pants-” Shane finally managed, after rubbing against the farmer’s crotch and plucking uselessly at the man’s belt.

Even through the alcohol, the man hesitated. “...Wait. We’re both pretty drunk right now.”

“So?” 

“I- I mean, we- I didn’t invite you over to have sex-”

Of course he hadn’t, but Shane couldn’t help but take offense. 

“What’s wrong with having sex? We’re both adults-”

“And we’re both fucking wasted-”

“I know what I want. Fuck you.” Horny and drunk, Shane was starting to get angry. “Let’s drink some more, then fuck, and we’ll probably forget about it tomorrow so it won’t matter either way.”

“That’s- I don’t want to do it like that-”

“Then let’s not do it at all. Don’t be a fucking cocktease-!” Hurt and embarrassed, Shane did what he was best at, and decided to run away from this problem. Pulling himself up, he stumbled off south, heading across the moonlit farmland and ignoring the farmer’s calls behind him. The farmland hadn’t been well-maintained, and further south there was a plethora of debris, old branches and rocks. Shane would have struggled to navigate it safely in the moonlight while sober, and had no chance as drunk as he was, tripping over a log.

“Argh- fucking- goddamn it-!” 

Lying on the ground, emotionally and physically bruised, Shane fought the long-bottled urge to cry. He heard the unsteady steps of the farmer coming after him, moving slowly to more carefully pick his way through the debris in the darkness.

“...I’ll help you home.” 

That was the only thing the man said to Shane as he helped Shane up, the two men making their way unsteadily to Marnie’s farm where Shane was unceremoniously left by the farmer, the man turning and going back the way he came without another word.


	2. Fall 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note: this chapter features a canon Shane heart event verbatim, so while suicidal themes will not be as prevalent in later chapters, they are for this one.

### Fall 1

The twice-weekly drinking sessions stopped after that. Shane hadn’t had as long as he wanted to process what had happened that night on the farm by their usual saloon time the following week, and he had drank beers in his bedroom instead. More depressing, but at least he didn’t have to try and navigate the confrontation he was ill-equipped to handle. And after that, it was easier to just keep avoiding the man. The farmer didn’t shop at Jojo Mart, so it was easier for Shan to drink by himself somewhere private two times a week and avoid having to interact with him at all.

He didn’t know if it made him feel better or worse that his ‘friend’ never came around to Marnie’s or visited the saloon on a different day to try and track him down. It didn’t help that the saloon had also started to sell some of the farm’s beer as a local alternative, as if Shane needed any more reminders.

On a different level, Shane was also disappointed he couldn’t remember the details of that evening clearly. It was the closest he had gotten to action since he’d arrived in Stardew Valley, and now the vague memories of sensations that night on the farm were contaminating his infrequent masturbation sessions as well. If that evening was going to be such a cause of conflict, the least that would have been fair was to give Shane something he could properly remember when he was trying to get off, even if it left him feeling pathetic and ashamed of himself afterwards.

As fall continued, he was finding it easier to just keep drinking, so he wouldn’t have to think about his pointless life, shitty job, bleak future and ruined friendship. He was definitely drinking more than he’d used to, and without a profitable farmer to buy him his booze, he was rapidly approaching broke. On top of everything else, he was getting a proper beer gut, his stomach beginning to stick out more prominently over his belt, and his ass and hips had thickened up a little, making some of his more snug pants uncomfortable. 

Marnie usually left Shane to his own devices when he wanted, but she was starting to be more vocal in her concerns about his lifestyle, to his irritation. When the weather cooled down further, Shane started to spend his evenings drinking out in the woods. Part of it was so he didn’t have Marnie in his hair and so he could get out of his bedroom, but another dark part of him was hoping that maybe he’d get drunk enough to pass out and die from hypothermia, and then he wouldn’t have to think about anything again. He felt like he had gotten pretty close, a couple of times, but each time his survival instinct kicked in after he was too drunk to remember, and he woke up in his own bed the following morning, hungover and miserable. 

Midway through fall, Shane was sitting by himself in the forest, by the cliff that looked out over the ocean. Lying by himself would be more accurate. He was so drunk he could barely move. He’d rolled over on the ground earlier and couldn’t seem to muster the energy to roll back onto his back.

In the darkness, he heard footsteps approaching. No one ever came by when he was drinking out here, so it figured the one night someone finally did was when he was feeling particularly useless.

“Shane? What are you doing here?”

He recognised the voice, and even with how drunk he was, he felt ashamed. The farmer was the last person he wanted to see him like this. But as the footsteps got closer… too much alcohol had loosened his lips, and he could feel the urge to take this opportunity to put the words out there that had been brewing inside since he moved to Stardew Valley. To get some of the darkness out of his head and into the cool night air.

They bubbled up before he could stop himself. 

“I’m sorry…” he slurred, as the farmer hurried over. “M… my life… it’s a pathetic joke… look at me… why do I even try?”

The tears he had been suppressing with alcohol for too long were finally coming up as well. “I’m too small and stupid… to take control of my life…”

He felt the man reach out for him, but shrugged off those warm hands. “I’m just a p… piece of soiled garbage flittering through the wind…”

A burp rose up out of him suddenly, and Shane found himself wishing that unconsciousness would hurry up and claim him already. 

“I’ve been coming here often lately… looking down… here’s a chance to finally take control of my life… these cliffs… but I’m too scared, too anxious… just like always.”

The farmer reached out for him again, and this time Shane didn’t shrug him off as the man started to help him to sit upright. 

“All I do is work, sleep and drink… t… to dull the feeling of self-hatred. Why should I go on? Tell me… t… tell me why I shouldn’t roll off this cliff right now...”

“...There are lots of people that care about you, Shane,” the farmer said quietly, holding Shane firmly in place. “I care about you. And… I’m sorry that I haven’t been there when you needed someone.”

“I don’t need anyone-” Shane protested weakly, but the other man was already pulling him up to his feet unsteadily.

“I’m going to take you to the clinic now,” the farmer said, slinging Shane’s arm around his shoulder and holding him close. “And tomorrow we can talk about this more, okay?” 

“I don’t wanna talk about it…” Shane protested, but as started the trip to the clinic through the woods, lit only by moonlight, he soon gave into unconsciousness.

The next thing he knew, he was waking up in a bed in the clinic. Everything hurt - especially his head and his stomach. He didn’t know if he was thankful or angry someone had come by and seen him by the cliffs before things had gotten worse.

Shane ended up spending the entire day at the clinic, Harvey only discharging him the following day with strict instructions to take it easy. And Shane had only been back home for about an hour when Marnie knocked on his bedroom door to inform him that he had a visitor. 

“...Hey,” the farmer greeted awkwardly as he moved to the doorway, carrying a container. “Is it alright if I come in?”

Conscious of Marnie just outside and in earshot, Shane nodded. “...Fine.”

The man came in, saw there were no chairs, and moved to sit down awkwardly at the foot of Shane’s bed before passing Shane the container. 

“Here. I made you some pie. I know you prefer spicy food, but I wasn’t sure if… your stomach was feeling up to that.”

Shane had to force himself to swallow down the hot mix of emotion that had threatened to burst out of him and keep his voice level.

“...So, what? I nearly die and now we’re friends again?”

The other man stiffened. “...You know it’s not like that.”

The loose control Shane had at the moment on his emotions was failing. “What is it like, then? Because you haven’t said a fucking word to me for months, and now you’re sauntering around like a knight in shining-fucking-armour!”

“You were avoiding me!” The farmer protested. “You were real upset about that night, and then you started avoiding me. I kept going to the saloon at the usual time for weeks in case you came by.”

“If you wanted to see me that bad, you know where I live. You could have come and talked.”

The farmer flinched, expression guilty as he glanced away. “I didn’t know if you wanted to talk, and… you’re a pretty private person. I didn’t want to stress you anymore than I already did.” 

“Well, congratulations, you made me want to die,” Shane snarled. “So you did a shit job of that, huh?”

Instead of getting angry at him like Shane had wanted and yelling at him, so they could both shout it out and get the hurt out of the way, the other man went quiet.

“...I’m going to let you get some rest,” the farmer muttered finally, getting to his feet. “I hope you feel better soon.”

Shane was left to stew in his regret and resentment by himself for the rest of the day, though Marnie and Jas briefly came in throughout the day to bring him meals. He had initially made the resolution to ignore the farmer’s pie to make a point that his sudden generosity had not been requested nor wanted, but after having the aroma filling his bedroom all day, Shane felt his willpower crumbling in the evening. He was thirsty, and Marnie had surreptitiously removed all of his beer from the house while he had been in the clinic, so he needed something to satisfy himself with. 

Opening the container, he saw a whole pumpkin pie inside, cut into eight slices. He couldn’t be bothered getting a plate from the kitchen, so just started eating straight out of the container. And it was damn good pie, too. The pumpkin had to be homegrown. Mindlessly watching television to kill time, and in a better mood from the excellent pie, Shane reluctantly decided that he shouldn’t have been a dick about it earlier. Nothing better to quash those tendrils of guilt starting to invade than more pumpkin pie, in Shane’s opinion. Distantly, as he reached for the sixth slice, he was conscious of having eaten too much, stomach feeling uncomfortably full after dinner and more than half a pie, but he definitely deserved some more comfort food after his time in the clinic. Besides, there wasn’t much point in saving just a couple of slices for tomorrow, especially since it meant having to get up to put it away in the fridge. Easier instead just to stay where he was, sprawled out on the bed, and stuff himself with the entire damn thing, and he went to sleep that night nursing his bloated, pie-swollen gut. 

The next afternoon, after lunch, the farmer came back.

“Hey,” he greeted again. “I figured you weren’t a fan of pie, so I made you pepper poppers this time.”

“Really?” Shane asked, perking up and relieved they weren’t launching straight into a serious conversation about what had happened. “That’s more like it. I have to say, though, I ate your pie, and it was pretty damn good.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” the other man smiled warmly. He passed over the container of poppers, and took the empty pie container back in exchange. “I’ll have to make you some more.”

Shane took one out and bit into it hungrily, exaggerating his noise of appreciation at the flavour to try and smooth things over. “Mm… yep, these are fantastic. Have you always been such a good cook?”

“I’ve been practicing since I moved here,” the farmer shrugged. “I like trying new recipes, so let me know if you want me to try anything.”

“Mm, some pizza sounds good right about now, but you know what goes really well with poppers?”

“What?” 

“Some beer. You don’t happen to have a new batch for me to try out, do you…?”

The other man shifted uncomfortably. “I do, actually, but… I think maybe we should hold off on the beer sessions for a bit.”

The sharp edge of that raw emotion was coming up again. “...What, worried I’ll end up on a trip back to the clinic again?”

“No,” the man scowled. “I want to do it on a special occasion. I want it to be a fun thing. I don’t want to be sneaking you beer because your aunt is worried about you. Once you’re back on your feet, we’ll do it then.”

“I’m back to work on Monday. Does that count?”

“Sure. You can come over for dinner. But we’re not going to drink as much as last time. Slow and steady wins the race.”

After lazing around the house for the next couple of days, with not much more than old video games, television, his friend’s visits and the homemade food that accompanied the farmer to keep him distracted, Shane thought it would almost be a relief to get back to work. Monday soon dispelled him of that fantasy - work was as shit as it usually was, with the added bonus of an unsympathetic boss and a backlog of jobs that needed doing - and as Shane left work, miserable and tired, he almost stopped at the saloon out of instinct before remembering he had social plans for the first time in a long time.

When the door was opened to him, he first saw that his friend was wearing an ironed shirt and jeans much nicer than the usual rough clothing he wore. Shane felt underdressed, just wearing his jacket and shorts. The second thing he noticed was the spread of food laid out on the table.

“Hey, are we expecting anyone else?”

“Hello to you too,” the man smiled. “No, just you and me. I figured you wouldn’t want the others to make a big deal out of things.”

He figured correctly, in that case. 

“This is the first time I’ve had you over for dinner, so I wanted to do it properly,” the man continued. 

“It looks great,” Shane said sincerely. Pizza, pasta and poppers. Just what Shane was always in the mood for. He wasn’t expecting the candles sitting on the table as well, but it was nice of his friend to clearly make an effort. “Glad to see you got a second chair since last time.”

“I got it especially for today,” the farmer grinned. “Sit down and serve yourself. I’ll get you something to drink.”

Shane had already helped himself to some pizza by the time the other man had set down a tall glass filled with beer beside his plate. 

“This is the one you liked last time. Figure it would be best to start off with something safe before I make you try the new ones.”

Shane took a large gulp of it, making sure to savour it. Officially or otherwise, he had a feeling his intake was going to be rationed this evening. “Mm… even better than I remember.”

“Glad to hear it. Dig in, then!”

There was a lot of food, and Shane tackled it with gusto. He had no reservations by now of the other man’s ability to cook, and the pizza was fantastic. The farmer seemed content to let Shane take the lion’s share of food, and when a spicy mouthful of pepper popper had Shane draining the last of his beer, it was promptly refilled without question. 

“You’re not cutting me off yet?”

“You’ll get drunk a lot slower on a full stomach, so I think you’ll be fine,” the farmer said bluntly, before adding with a shrug, “I’m not your doctor, so as long as you’re not drinking to hurt yourself, I’m okay with it.”

That was about as good as Shane could ask for, considering the circumstances. “...Sounds fair to me. Cheers.”

He clinked glasses with the farmer, and felt the moment needed something more formalised. “How about… to our friendship?”

“I’ll drink to that.” The other man did so, taking a big gulp of beer before returning his attention to the food. 

After emptying his plate three times, Shane settled back in his chair, very well fed and satisfied, only to watch the last of the food get piled onto his plate by the other man.

“Eat up. No point saving this little for leftovers.”

Shane wanted to point out it was probably enough for a meal in itself, but he was up for the challenge. “Alright, but only because you’re an amazing cook.”

Shane was rewarded with a happy smile that made his heart flutter. Emptied dishes were removed while Shane stubbornly worked his way through the last of the food, slumping back once he was done to pat his overfilled stomach, and accidently working up a deep belch in the process.

“Oof… ‘scuse me.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” the farmer grinned. “The sound of the good meal. You ready for dessert yet, or do you want a break first?”

“Dessert?” Shane repeated, alarmed. “You didn’t say there was dessert, and that was a lot of food.”

“Sorry, I wanted it to be a nice surprise,” the other man said sheepishly. “We’ll wait a bit, maybe you’ll find some room after the food settles.”

“Sounds good,” Shane grunted. “You really need to get a couch or something, though, so a guy can sprawl out properly.”

“The bedsheets are pretty clean, if you want to lie down for a bit.”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s been a long day.”

Shane hauled himself to his feet, discretely loosening his belt and after some consideration, unbuttoning the button on his shorts as well for comfort before he set himself down on the bed with a sigh. 

“Reckon I can get started on trying one of those new brew batches?”

“Sure thing.” 

Shane made himself comfortable on the sheets as his friend passed him a bottle of beer. He might have otherwise been self-conscious about making himself at home like this, but he trusted that if a guy like the farmer offered it, it meant he didn’t mind. 

Sipping the beer, Shane felt himself dozing off a little. It had been a tiring day, and he was now warm and full of too much good food. The quiet sounds of the other man working in the kitchen was nice. The sheets smelled of him too, which was nicer. It must have been a couple of hours later when Shane was roused from his sleep.

“Bwuh?” He sat up, hastily wiping his mouth to get rid of the drool that had been collecting on his jaw.

“Sorry, I know you’re tired, but it’s getting late,” the farmer said apologetically. “You can stay the night if you want, I just wanted to check.”

“No- that’s fine.” A little blearily, Shane looked around. It was only a single bed, and nowhere else for the other man to sleep if Shane did spend the night at the farmhouse. “I’ll get going.”

“Would you like some dessert first?”

Shane considered it. He was still pretty full, but the dessert would undoubtedly be worth it. “...Yeah, that would be great.”

“Are you feeling like pie or cake?”

“Can I have a little bit of both?” Shane asked hopefully. 

“Of course.”

A ‘little bit’ apparently meant what had to be a quarter of the pie and cake each, with a healthy dollop of fresh cream on top. 

“Looks great,” Shane grunted, digging in while his friend ate his own piece of pie. The nap had helped him digest, but he had eaten a lot and the uncomfortable feeling of being overfull returned before he was even halfway through the large dessert. Still he diligently soldiered on, gulping down the last of it before setting the plate down and letting out a little groan.

“That was incredible… we have to celebrate going back to work more often,” Shane joked. 

“Well, actually, I was thinking…” his friend began tentatively. “Maybe instead of meeting up at the saloon on Tuesdays and Saturdays, you could come over and have dinner here? I still have plenty to drink, and it would be cheaper as well.”

“Heh, that means you want me back tomorrow? So soon?” 

“Sure. I like cooking for you. There’s more beer for you to try, or you can try some of the wines I’ve been working on.”

“I’m up for giving it a shot.” Getting to his feet with a grunt, Shane was more aware of how full he was now he was standing. “I’d better get going.”

“I’ll walk you home. Would you like to take some leftover dessert with you?” 

“I’m stuffed,” Shane said firmly, patting his swollen stomach. “But I suppose I could find a good home for it some time this week…”

Shane didn’t feel that it was necessary to be escorted home, but given last time he had managed to injure himself falling over trying to navigate the farm in the dark, he supposed it was unreasonable to protest. 

Less than 24 hours later, he was back at the farmhouse after work for the day, and more than ready for some good food and a beer.

“What’s the occasion this time?” he asked, nodding at the huge meal ready and waiting on the table.

“I’m just happy,” the farmer smiled, with such sincere warmth that Shane had to fight the urge to blush. “And I did a lot of fishing on the weekend. Thought I’d try some seafood recipes.”

Spending time at the farmhouse was nicer than at the saloon, without a doubt. Other than the obvious benefit of being fed to extreme fullness and plied with a fair bit of beer by his friend without having to pay a cent, it was nice just to have their own space when they talked without anyone else interrupting or listening in on their conversations. He could relax more without the nagging stress of being out in public in the back of his mind, as much as being in a small town saloon counted as ‘in public’. 

Even expecting dessert this time, that didn’t stop Shane from making a pig of himself and finishing off the large majority of the main course. Other than honestly enjoying the food that much, it also made him happy to see how happy it made his host, and made the aching stomach he had by the time he got home later that night, stuffed full of food, all the more bearable. In the stretch between Tuesday and Saturday, Shane had plenty of leftovers from the farmer to keep himself fed, but by Saturday he was more than ready for another feast, and the farmer didn’t disappoint. After dinner, they spent some time sprawled out against the tree like they had in summer. The weather was too cool to stay out for long, but the chill highlighted the man’s warmth against him as they sat against each other. 

Shane couldn’t help but remember that night during summer. It had only been a few months ago, but felt so much longer. He wanted to lean over and kiss the other man, to hold him again, to feel his arousal against him. He wasn’t drunk this time either, so he would have been able to remember the experience more clearly.

But he wasn’t going to take that risk, not after they had just patched things up. With where his pathetic life was right now, he needed these evenings to look forward to. So he sat there quietly while his friend chatted away, looking up at the stars until it got too cold for them to stay outside, retreating inside to warm up with both pudding and the intriguing pepper wine that the farmer had been talking enthusiastically about trying. With no work to look forward to the following day, the temptation was stronger than ever to let himself get too drunk to head home and stay in the warm farmhouse for the night, but Shane decided against pushing his luck and made the cold trip home, the farmer walking by his side in what was becoming routine, with a fresh batch of leftover dessert to tide him over until Tuesday.


	3. Winter 1

### Winter 1

As fall rolled into winter, Shane was faced with the fact that he was getting more than a little chunky. He’d never been fit in the way Alex was, but he’d had what he considered a pretty average build. By now, though, his beer gut had filled out into a proper belly. It was too big to hide its presence beneath his jacket any longer, and it was getting to the point where what had once been loose pants were now uncomfortably tight around his softer ass and thicker thighs. 

“Damn,” he said, looking at himself in the bathroom mirror. His face was looking a little fatter as well, his jawline slightly softened, and his chest was bulkier too. He was going to have to get a larger work uniform as well, which would be a pain in the ass, but the alternative was risking splitting the seat of his trousers when he bent over at work. 

He hadn’t decided whether he was going to complain about it in the safe space that was the farmhouse, or if he was too embarrassed to bring his buddy’s attention to his weight gain, but the next time he went around for dinner after work, the topic came up anyway. 

“You’re looking good,” the farmer smiled. “You wearing some new clothes?”

“Yeah. Guess the winter weight came a little early this year,” Shane admitted. “Had to buy some new cold weather clothing as well.”

“That shirt looks good on you.”

The complement was enough to put Shane’s insecurities to rest for the time being. The other man clearly wasn’t concerned about Shane’s weight, as he piled food onto Shane’s plate just as high as usual. And having better-fitting clothes undoubtedly made Shane’s dining experience a more pleasurable one, without constricting fabric to protest about how much he had eaten once he was done. 

“You know, winter is not a great season for crops,” his friend began conversationally while they sat in front of the fire together on the farmhouse’s only rug after dinner.

“You don’t need to be a farmer to know that.”

“My point is,” the man continued, deliberately ignoring Shane, “I won’t have as much work to do around the farm soon. I'm planning to focus on some mining over the next few weeks-”

“The mines are dangerous, aren't they?” 

“Don't worry, I'll be careful,” the man assured him. “But I'll have more free time during the week, I think.”

“Lucky you.”

“So,” the farmer continued patiently, “If you're not tired of me, you're welcome to come over for dinner and drinks more often.”

“You wouldn't mind cooking more often?” 

“Of course not. I like cooking for you, and I could use the company. It gets lonely by myself here.”

Shane doubted that. The farmer was quite the social butterfly, from what he had heard. But still, he was flattered.

“Sure, I could come over more. I don't feel like cooking much after working all day. But don't blame me if Gus gives you grief for stealing away one of his best customers.”

“It's okay, I'd tell him we could settle with a pizza-making contest. Winner takes all.” 

“Sounds like my kind of contest.”

Shane considered distantly that he should offer to cook some time, especially if he was going to be around for dinner more frequently, but he doubted his omelet recipe would impress in comparison to the food his friend cooked up. 

“Mm, a pie contest sounds like a good idea as well…” 

“Save that thought for dessert,” the farmer grinned. “The crows finally left some apples for me, just in time for the end of the season, so you're getting apple pie tonight.”

“I could probably manage a small piece, and let you know what I think,” Shane said casually, knowing full well that he'd be taking home whatever he didn't eat. Though his friend had a healthy appetite himself, he didn't have the same sweet tooth Shane did. 

Soon he was coming over four times a week, spending more evenings with the farmer than not. He still stopped by the saloon twice a week to do his part in keeping Gus in business, doing his best to ignore Gus’ pointed comments about being one of his best customers.

The extra weight did make him more insulated at least, Shane finding he was less bothered by the cold as he watched on at the Festival of Ice than he had been the previous year. It was just as well, since with how heartily he had been eating lately, he wasn't likely to lose his extra padding any time soon. 

Despite the added insulation, as the weather continued to get colder towards the middle of winter, Shane had come to appreciate the fireplace at the farmhouse almost as much as the food and company. Nothing beat the feeling of being sprawled out in front of the toasty fire while he recovered from a generously-portioned dinner, the farmer relaxing beside him and snow falling past the window outside. These quiet moments felt intimate, the two men quietly talking until Shane could be coaxed into dessert, and that time in front of the fire did more to pull him out of his stressed mood from work than any amount of beer would have.

As such, he felt it was not unreasonable that his initial reaction to the proposal of leaving the warmth of the fire on a chilly Saturday evening for an excursion was a disgruntled one. 

“Are you being serious?” 

“Yep. Nothing beats a bath after a long week.”

“I thought they were blocked off after that landslide.”

“That was cleared months ago,” the farmer chuckled. “I can't believe you've been missing out on it all this time.”

“Public bathing isn't my idea of fun.”

“You'll be fine. Hardly anyone goes there except for Alex, and it's probably past his bedtime. Come on, I'll bring some beer.”

A short time later, Shane was grumbling under his breath as he zipped his jacket up over his full stomach before stepping outside. 

“Fuck, it's cold.”

The other man clapped a hand to Shane's shoulder, grinning. “Nothing a brisk walk can't fix. Let's go.”

At least it wasn't snowing, the clear skies providing some moonlight to light their way. Following the path up to the base of the mountain, Shane was finding the walk was doing an effective job at warming him, as he started to sweat beneath his jacket.

“This had better be the best damn bath I've ever had,” he muttered, trying his best to conceal that he was getting out of breath from the moderate exercise. 

First impressions of the baths were not great either, with the dingy exterior and the odor of stale sweat as they entered the men's change room, but there was a more pressing concern.

“...I didn’t bring anything to change into for the bath,” Shane realised.

“Neither did I,” the farmer shrugged, already starting to pull off his jacket. “It’s fine. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I’ve never seen anybody else here this late.”

Shane was more concerned about stripping down in front of the other man for the first time, but it was clearly not something the farmer had reservations about, as he was up to removing his shirt as well, though he paused when he saw Shane making no move to start undressing. 

“If that’s not something you’re comfortable with, we can head back.”

Though Shane appreciated the offer, they had made the trek all the way here. There was no way he was going to be the reason they headed back empty-handed, figuratively-speaking.

“I haven’t skinny-dipped since college, but I’m not that much of prude,” he grumbled, starting to undo his jacket. 

“I’ll see you in there, then,” the other man grinned, “And I’m taking the beers with me, so if you take too long I’ll have a head start.”

Shane dawdled with his jacket, attempting to watch out of the corner of his eye as his friend kicked off his boots and started to strip off his pants as well, Shane only daring to peek properly once the other man was fully naked and heading to the baths. With ample opportunity to get an eyeful of the farmer’s muscular ass, Shane conceded to himself that at least there would be some eye-candy to make the trip worthwhile. 

After slowly undressing, Shane glanced at himself in the change room's grimy mirror and sighed. If he had known this would be happening, he might have taken up running or something so he'd make a better first impression. The big dinner wasn’t helping, either. At least being at his winter weight meant his physique would only be improving when the weather warmed up. 

Bracing himself, he headed out into the bath. 

“This place is huge,” he said to his friend to announce his arrival, moving quickly to step into the water so he felt less exposed. The farmer was seated a few yards away, and Shane's stomach managed to find room for butterflies of self-conscious excitement as he saw the farmer's gaze casually flick down and up to take in Shane's naked body.

“Yeah. It’s big for a small town like this.”

“Cleaner than I was expecting, too,” Shane admitted, wading through the water to seat himself a comfortably safe distance away from his friend. “Seems a waste not to have people use it more.”

“Well, it’s nice to have company for a change,” the farmer said as he retrieved a bottle of beer for Shane, opening it and passing it over. “Worth the walk, right?”

“...We’ll see. At least I didn’t have to carry all that beer here.”

“I think it’s going to be a thirsty kind of evening,” the other man shrugged, taking a swig of his own drink before closing his eyes and settling back against the side of the pool with a sigh. “It was a rough day today.”

“Yeah?” 

With the farmer’s eyes closed, Shane was free to move closer and get a better look at the other man’s body. He had also put on winter weight, in a sense, but instead of Shane’s soft padding, it was firm muscle. The weeks toiling in the mine clearly had a flattering effect on his build, since he was looking stronger than ever. Shane immediately felt fatter in comparison, and started to make quick work of his beer to try and quash that unhelpful train of thought. Still, something else about the man’s thicker bicep caught his eye. 

“Hey, are you hurt?”

Without thinking, Shane reached out to brush his fingers against the skin next to an angry red mark cutting across the other man’s arm.

The farmer stirred, opening his eyes to glance down to where Shane was touching. “Oh. A little. Nothing a good night’s sleep can’t fix.”

“From the mines?”

“Yeah,” the other man admitted after a moment of hesitation, and to pre-empt Shane, he added, “I’ve been careful. You should see the other guy.”

“Right.” Shane shifted closer, frowning. “Where else are you hurt?”

It was a calculated question.

Sighing, the man stood up in the bath to give Shane a better look at his torso. “I’ve got a couple of bruises, but they’re healing up fine.” 

There were some blueish, faded bruises along his lean sides and firm stomach, and something that looked suspiciously like bite marks on his hand. Standing up had also brought the water down to hip level, ass and crotch tantalisingly close to the water’s surface as the man turned around to let Shane inspect the level of damage he had sustained.

“...Do you have to go down into the mines?” Shane asked finally. 

“No, but there’s some fascinating stuff down there,” the farmer said easily, sitting back down again. “And it gives me something to ship while I can’t grow anything. My animals won’t pay for their own feed until they grow up a bit more.”

Shane was struck by the urge to go home and insist that Marnie offer animal fodder at a discount so his friend wouldn’t have to go down the mine and risk hurting himself again.

“Trust me. I won’t let anything bad happen to me. Wouldn’t want to risk the lecture from Harvey.”

Shane had to crack a smile at that, able to imagine all too well what the conversation with Harvey might look like, and dropped the subject. The heat from the water felt like it was loosening tense muscles, easing the soreness that came with spending all day at JoJo Mart on his feet. He had to admit it was a very nice bath. 

The heat of the bath was also making the air humid, and Shane found himself making swift work of the beer. He wasn't alone, and the two men didn't take long to make a solid dent in the cache of bottles they had brought with them. Once he was a few bottles in, the farmer took a break to start swimming lazy laps up and down the bath, Shane watching on as he drank more. Shane was definitely hard by now, but was counting on the rippling water of the bath to do a good enough job of hiding his arousal. 

An unwelcome, jealous thought occurred to him, disrupting the pleasant mental state he had found himself in, and he asked the other man before he could stop himself.

“...I was wondering, have you come here with anybody else before?”

He thought it was a reasonable question. Shane was not a sociable man, but he had picked up enough conversation on Friday evenings at the saloon to know that he was not the only one who thought warmly of the farmer. Both Sam and Sebastian were friends with the man, which must have been a monumental achievement for Sebastian in particular. Harvey had only nice things to say about the farmer (though Shane suspected he hadn’t seen the injuries from the mine), and Elliot seemed to have developed an interest in farming, which he insisted was for his current manuscript. Even Alex, who normally clung aggressively to heterosexuality, had been heard to admit he thought the farmer was a good-looking guy. 

The other man rolled onto his back in the water to look over at Shane, unfazed by the question. 

“I haven’t, no. Maybe they all think it’s still blocked off as well. Sometimes I run into Alex here after he’s finished working out and we cool off together, though.”

That begged the follow-up question of what ‘cooling off together’ involved, but Shane drowned it out by chugging down the rest of his current bottle of beer. It wasn’t any of his business, and he couldn’t blame the other man if he was interested in Alex. Certainly, Alex was a more impressive physical specimen than Shane was at present. 

“You okay?” the other man asked lazily.

“Fine,” Shane grunted, but the farmer picked up on the mood and swam back over to Shane to sit down beside him and resume conversation.

In the heat of the bath, Shane hadn’t realised how drunk he was getting until he went to set an emptied bottle down with the others and dramatically misjudged the distance, accidentally punching the cooler. 

“Fuck. We didn’t drink all of that, did we?” Shane muttered, looking blearily at the collection of bottles.

“It was a team effort,” the farmer drawled, now slumped back against the side of the bath. “Told you it was a thirsty night.”

“We should probably get going soon, then…” Shane was not looking forward to having to leave the warm water and head out into the frigid night.

The other man hauled himself up so he could peer into the cooler. “Three bottles left, and I’m not carrying back a full bottle of beer.”

Shane did not need any convincing. “Pass one here, then.”

With well-practiced ease, Shane brought the bottle to his lips and chugged down its entire contents, only pausing to let out a deep belch once it was completely empty. “You know, this stuff is way better than your first try. I feel like I could drink it all night.”

“Let’s hope we’re sober enough to make it home in one piece, first,” the man grinned, opening the last two bottles and passing another one to Shane. “Cheers.”

“To us?” Shane suggested hopefully, in a moment of inebriated boldness. 

“Sure. To us.”

A few minutes later, Shane was unsteadily hauling himself out of the bath, being careful not to throw himself off balance while simultaneously eyeing up the naked farmer as he got out as well. Only now that Shane was getting out, he realised how bloated his stomach felt from how much he had drunk on top of the large dinner he’d had earlier in the evening. 

It was a longer process getting back to the farmhouse than it had been getting to the baths. The two men had leaned on each other for stability as they clumsily attempted to navigate putting pants and shoes back on, and then once they were outside they alternated between trying to avoid tripping over each other and clinging to each other for support as they stumbled down the path in the darkness, giggling as they went. 

Making it back safely despite all odds, Shane had once again worked up an appetite and a sweat. He was coaxed into dessert, which was worth it despite the aching stomach afterwards. As he sat sprawled out on the farmer's bed, he glanced out the window at the night outside. 

“It's late. Marnie’s not gonna appreciate me waking her up when I get home.”

“Stay the night, then,” the other man offered. “You don't have work tomorrow, right?”

“You only have the one bed.” The protest was half-hearted. Shane was comfortable where he was, and after one excursion already, he wasn't eager to head back out into the cold again. 

“We can share. Or I can sleep on the floor.”

“You're not sleeping on the floor.”

It was a snug fit. The bed was designed to be economically-sized for one man, not two men who were too drunk to care that they had to press up against each other to fit under the sheets. Having stripped down to his underwear, Shane had to position himself on his side, the farmer resting against his back. The other man had put an arm around Shane’s softened side, in theory to keep Shane from slipping out of the bed, but Shane wouldn't have cared if there was any reason at all for it. It felt nice.

Waking up the next morning with a heavier hangover than usual did nothing to diminish the sensation of the other man’s morning wood pressing against his ass. Shane wasn’t given long to savour it, though, since the farmer soon got up to start groggily making breakfast for the two of them, and Shane was eventually sent on his way with a stomach full of home cooking. 

Sometimes, Shane wondered if there would be a point where the farmer would grow bored of him, or if he'd eventually outstay his welcome at the farmhouse, and they would drift apart like had happened with all of Shane's friends in the city from when he had been younger. But if he was eventually going to reach that point with the farmer, it didn't look like it was going to be anytime soon. The following weekend after their excursion to the baths, Shane arrived at the farmhouse after work to find a new couch sitting in front of the aged television. 

"You've been doing some refurbishing?" Shane asked with a nod at the couch. 

"It's an early Feast of the Winter Star gift for you," the other man grinned. "I realised two chairs and one bed really isn't enough furniture."

It wasn't what Shane would have asked for, but he didn't waste time in putting it to use, planting his butt down on it after dinner to enjoy the warmth of the fire without having to sit on the floor. 

With how much time he was spending at the farmhouse, and with the majority of that time involving eating large dinners and drinking homebrewed beer, Shane shouldn't have been as surprised as he was when he realised it was starting to become a bit of a snug fit in the larger clothes he had bought at the start of winter. Thankfully, this was shortly before the Feast of Winter, so he had an excuse to just buy himself something more comfortable and save concerns about the extra weight for after winter. 

For the Feast of the Winter Star itself, the farmer had been unofficially assigned to the table with Elliot and Leah as another relatively young person with no other family to sit with. Shane tried not to feel jealous from where he sat with Marnie and Jas as he watched the three of them laugh at something Leah had said.

He got the chance to briefly chat with the farmer when the other man made his social rounds before the feast began, dropping off a huge pumpkin pie at their table as he did, but that didn't stop Shane from glowering later when he saw how comfortable Elliot looked sitting mere inches from the farmer while they ate. 

Even outside of Marnie's cooking and the farmer's pie, there was a lot of food going around, and Shane made sure he didn't miss out on any of it. The festivals involving food were always his favourite - town-sanctioned excuses to overeat on food he didn't have to cook - and spending four nights a week at the farmer's dinner table for the past couple of months had trained him well for this evening. Despite that, he found that a little bit of everything, and seconds for the dishes he particularly enjoyed, added up fast.

The feeling of his hunger being satisfied was promptly ignored in favour of Shane piling more food onto his plate. Later, even the uncomfortable sensation of being a little too full, stomach feeling heavy and a little swollen, was a familiar-enough state for Shane these days that he could easily push past it. There was still food within arm’s reach, after all. 

It was only once his gut was truly starting to ache, packed full with far too much food, that he had to admit to himself that he had probably eaten too much. The problem was, he had been saving the farmer’s pie for the end, the best for last, and now he had no choice but to cut himself a generous slice and somehow find the room for it in his overloaded stomach. He had to tackle it slowly, needing some willpower to make himself keep eating despite how full he was. Thankfully, he had no audience for his gluttony since both Jas and Marnie had finished eating by now and had left to socialise with the other townsfolk. He was allowed to savour the pie at his own pace - even with how much of the farmer's cooking he was eating these days, this one tasted better than usual by virtue of being made for a special occasion, and Shane wanted to finish his slice despite the increasing protest from his overburdened stomach.

Once he was done, he settled back on the bench with a weak groan. He had definitely overdone it, more than he usually did, and his breathing a little shallow from how full he was. He rubbed his swollen gut to try and soothe it, but there was only so much he could do after packing it so full of food. Buying larger clothes had definitely been the correct choice, but he still reached under his swollen gut to unbutton his pants for comfort. 

As distracted as he was with his aching stomach, he didn't notice the farmer's approach until the man sat down beside him. 

"Hey," the other man began quietly. "Did you get enough to eat?" 

"Definitely," Shane groaned. "I pigged out hard."

"Well, it is the season," the farmer chuckled. "You want to come back to my place? I have a gift for you that I forgot to bring."

"I thought the couch was my gift." 

"That wasn't very exciting, though," the man shrugged. "I hope you like this one better."

Hopefully the gift was either something of the sexual variety, or more realistically, something alcoholic - a guy could dream. But that would have to wait. 

"I ate too much," Shane admitted. "I don't think I can make the walk back just yet."

The farmer grinned, and reached over to pat Shane's stomach. "I'm in no rush. You just let me know when you're ready."

Shane was too full to get flustered about the body contact, and he stayed planted on his butt on the bench while he let his feast settle. Other people doing the social rounds came by to chat briefly, but after about half an hour Shane was ready to head off, curious about what his gift was, and a little ashamed that he hadn't gotten one for the farmer in return. 

The walk back to the farmhouse jostled Shane's overfull stomach enough that he was very ready to ready to sprawl out on the sofa as soon as the got there, groaning quietly as he nursed his stomach and watched the farmer bustle about, setting up the fire and fetching Shane a beer to help 'aid digestion'. 

"What's this gift, then?" he finally asked once he was settled. 

"...I'll show you." 

The farmer got up and headed into the adjacent room, coming back a moment later with something large in his hands: it was a neatly wrapped bouquet of vibrantly coloured flowers. Shane stared blankly at it until the other man passed it to him. It definitely wasn't what he was expecting. 

"...It's for you," the other man prompted, stating the obvious and sounding uncharacteristically tentative. 

"This is…" Shane did most of his shopping at JojaMart, but he had been to Pierre's shop enough to recognise what it was supposed to be. "Ah." 

"I've been thinking about what happened in summer," the farmer began explaining. "I'm sorry it happened the way it did. And if I could go back and do it differently, I would. But I really like you, Shane-" 

The declaration made heat bloom inside Shane, and he found himself wish he hadn't eaten quite so much at the Feast. He was feeling groggy from how full his stomach was, and this really seemed like an important moment to be clear-headed for. 

"And I want to- I don’t know, ‘explore’ that side of our relationship?" the man continued, sounding flustered. "But properly this time. And if that's something you're not interested in, that's okay. I won't bring it up again, and we can keep being friends like we are now."

He paused, and Shane realised belatedly that it was his cue to respond. 

"Uh-" He wasn't the dating type. He didn't really like the formality of this either. He had been hoping 'exploring' their relationship would be in the form of a casual handjob or some drunken sex whenever they got too horny. If he said yes to this and it didn't work out, it would be another failure on the long list of failures that was his life. On the other hand, he sincerely liked the farmer, and if he was going to date someone, he couldn't do much better than him. He'd certainly be a generous boyfriend, based on their relationship so far… 

Easier just to do what he usually did. Think about what he wanted right now, and leave tomorrow as a problem for future Shane to manage. "...Can we start tonight?" 

"Of course," the man beamed. 

"Well, let's do it, then."

A short time later, Shane was stripped down to his underwear, sprawled back on the farmer's bed with the other man straddling his thicker hips and kissing him hungrily. 

The mines really were a blessing, Shane decided as he ran his hands over the farmer's muscular torso. A season of working down there had done more than fill out the man's physique than a season of dieting and rigorous exercise like Alex would have done, probably. Shane wasn’t a fitness expert.

In contrast, Shane was definitely a little softer than when they had first gone to the baths together. His presently-overloaded stomach likely only emphasised that he had put on some more winter weight. But the farmer evidently didn't mind that much, judging from the feeling of his erection pressing against the underside of Shane's gut through the fabric of the farmer's trousers. 

They didn’t get all the way to penetration that night, though after the two men had sufficient opportunity to grope each other and get worked up, the farmer pulled down Shane’s snug underwear and gave him the first blowjob he had received in years. What the man lacked in finesse he made up for in enthusiasm, and it was miles better than Shane’s own hand. 

Ultimately, it was a very satisfying end to a big evening and undoubtedly the best Feast of the Winter Star Shane had experienced since he had arrived in Stardew Valley.


End file.
